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Post by Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova on Jan 9, 2010 18:19:53 GMT -5
 i don't wanna be that call at four o'clock in the morning
'CAUSE I'M THE ONLY ONE YOU KNOW IN THE WORLD THAT WON'T BE HOME. THE SUN IS BLINDING,
I STAYED UP AGAIN. I AM FINDING THAT'S NOT THE WAY I WANT MY STORY TO END. I'M SAFE UP
UP HIGH, NOTHING CAN TOUCH ME. NO PAIN INSIDE ----------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------- YOU'RE MY PROTECTION BUT HOW DO I FEEL THIS GOOD SOBER?
“Chug! Chug! Chug!” the crowd chanted loudly around me, pounding their fists or their palms against the table top. People were looking in our direction and adding to the small crowd around my table, watching as me and one other person—a man—sat across from me. Both of us had a large mug of beer in our hands, our heads tilted back as we tried to chug our beverage before the other one could. I didn’t know how far he was with being done, but I was nearly finished with mind—and that was even with me managing to drink it without spilling any of it all over me.
Finally, after a few seconds, it was gone. I slammed down my mug and took a deep breath, filling my lungs with air after not stopping to breathe while I chugged that beer. I’d already had quite a few drinks and my head was spinning, but I could take several more before I was even close to being totally trashed. I only had to wait a couple more seconds and then my partner slammed his mug down too, swearing at me for beating him. I just laughed as the crowd cheered and cat-called Spencer for being beaten by a girl. He just got up and started to rough-house with his buds, telling them that he went easy on me because I was a girl. “Bull shit!” I cried, smiling wide and getting to my feet.
Spencer relented and pulled out his wallet. “Dammit, Kyla. . . you’re going to make me broke,” he muttered, pulling out a couple bills and handing them to me. When I reached for them, he pulled them back out of his reach. “I’m going to get you one of these days. I’ll find something I can beat you at.”
I smiled and took them from him, grinning. “When pigs fly, Spencer. When pigs fly. And if you’re so worried about your wallet, you should stop making all these bets!” I pointed out, stuffing the bills in my cleavage and gaining several wolf-whistles from the men around me. There were woman around watching, as well, but the more jealous ones had taken their men out to dance or whatever, and it was the single men that were gathered around me, the single woman hanging about hoping to get the extras. I wasn’t the prettiest thing in the room, but it seemed like I was the only woman willing to attempt to out-drink the men.
Although, I might have had an unfair advantage because of my supernatural system, but that wasn’t my problem. “Alright, boys! That’s enough betting and challenges tonight! I feel like dancing,” I announced, lifting my hands. There was a loud and resounding “aw” from the people around me, and the crowd dispersed, leaving only me and the men who were more interesting in getting my clothes off than actually dancing with me. I pulled the money I had just won from Spencer and handed it back to him, grinning. “Go get yourself and your friends something to drink on me,” I said.
“You mean on me,” he said, pretending to sound irritated. I just giggled and pat his chest, turning on my heel to head into the crowd to find something fun to do on the dance floor.
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---------STATE Finished
---------VOCAB 555
---------MUSE Fine
---------CHATTER Hope that's alright.
---------COSTAR Whoever you choose. XD
---------WARDROBE Here
---------STAGE Bar at the Hard Rock
---------CREDIT coding/banner by yours truly. lyrics by Pink
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Post by Vincent on Jan 9, 2010 19:57:01 GMT -5
Leon slips into the cafe past the would be bouncer, scanning the room. The human was nineteen and didn't drink, but he did want to expand his understanding of a normal society. There was music, drinking, dancing, and way more people than he liked. He sighs, blacj clad hand running over the scar on his face. He hated people. His hair was a dark brown in an elegantly disheveled fashion over brilliant green eyes. He was tall and lean, standing at six foot even now. He wore a leather jacket and a faux fur collar, a wite tee under it. On his chest bounced a silver necklace of a lions head open in a defiant roar. He wore black jeans with three leather straps around his right thigh, with leather belts creating an X at his waist. To finish it off, he had black wrist cut gloves and black leather boots.
He slips to the edge of the dance floor, watching the drinking contest between the male and female, chuckling to himself as she trounced him. "Bet that hurt his ego." he mumbles to himself, emitting another rare chuckle. He looks away as she moves to her friend, scanning everyone else. It might shape up to be an interesting night, and highly valuable in terms of experience for the poor and troubled youth.
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Post by Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova on Jan 9, 2010 22:48:31 GMT -5
i don't wanna be that call at four o'clock in the morning
'CAUSE I'M THE ONLY ONE YOU KNOW IN THE WORLD THAT WON'T BE HOME. THE SUN IS BLINDING,
I STAYED UP AGAIN. I AM FINDING THAT'S NOT THE WAY I WANT MY STORY TO END. I'M SAFE UP
UP HIGH, NOTHING CAN TOUCH ME. NO PAIN INSIDE ----------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------- YOU'RE MY PROTECTION BUT HOW DO I FEEL THIS GOOD SOBER?
Instead of stopping on the dance floor like I had told my little buddies that I was doing, I walked straight on through and came to sit at a table in a more calm section of the bar. I plopped myself down on the wooden chair and sighed, leaning back a bit and taking another little breath. A waiter came over after a few minutes and asked if I wanted anything. I just ordered a large fry and smiled at him as he left to fill my order. My fingers tapped on the table top as I waited, turning toward the floor. So far everyone here was human. Bah.
I didn’t have a problem with humans—I had been one, after all. It was just dumb hating something that you had been less than a year ago. I hadn’t particularly enjoyed being a human, but that was no reason to hate them all. I just wished that there was someone in the place that I wouldn’t have to lie to.
My fries arrived and I smiled at the waiter man. He asked if there was anything I wanted to drink, and I thought about that for several seconds. Get something alcoholic. . . or maybe some water. . . coffee, perhaps? Or maybe just a soda. . . . The guy waited patiently for me to decide, and then I shook my head and looked up at him. “Disaronno on the rocks,” I said at last, smiling at him and picking up a fry. He nodded and made his leave, muttering something about why I wasn’t at the bar drinking. I scowled after him, figuring that he was just an irate employee who wished he was home right then.
Eyes wandering toward the dance floor, I watched the bodies jump and dance around to the beat of the music. I had never been one for dancing at clubs or bars. . . I was more of a show up and drink myself into a coma type of girl. My drink came after I ate about ten fries, and I smiled and tossed out a couple bills on the table after he left, building up his tip for him. He was putting up with me, so I was throwing out money every time he complained about me. I wasn’t sure if this was a good way to repay him for how irritating I can be—and really I wasn’t even being that irritating right then—but I was going to do it anyway. I had enough money to do it, after all.
Pushing my seat back a bit, I leaned into my chair and brought the little basket of fries to my lap, setting it down on my short jean skirt. My legs went up and rested on the table top, the glass of my drink close enough to the edge of the table so that I wouldn’t have to work so hard to get it. Munching on the end of a fry, I glanced around, then took a sip of my drink. It was a very extreme switch from laughing and partying and out-drinking Spencer to just sitting here like I was all alone, but I needed a break. If only for a few seconds. I could see the guys making their way toward me and I groaned to myself, rubbing my forehead. It was getting a little old now, people always clamoring to get my attention. Why couldn’t it be hard for once? The crowd closed around them for a second as a quick fight broke out, and I got up, taking my fries with me and drinking the rest of my spirits before leaving and making my way through the other side of the dance floor.
With a fry in my mouth, I skirted around some dancing couple dirty dancing, and then was immediately run into by some other guy who had tripped over his own feet. I squealed as he slammed into me. He fell down and lied there, passed out, and I fell into some leather-clad guy with brown hair. Several of my fries escaped from the basket I carried, and I sighed. “Oh, fuck me. Sorry about that! This place can be a real hazard!” I said sarcastically, looking down at the unconscious man, now covered with a couple of fries before looking up at the one I had run into. I grinned slightly and pointed at Mr. Unconscious. “It’s his fault! I swear.”
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---------STATE Done
---------VOCAB 749
---------MUSE Wonderful
---------CHATTER Sorry it's so long. XD
---------COSTAR Leon
---------WARDROBE Here
---------STAGE Hard Rock
---------CREDIT coding/banner by yours truly. lyrics by Pink
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Post by Vincent on Jan 9, 2010 23:50:28 GMT -5
Leon snaps to attention in suprise as someone rams into him, his arms shooting out to catch her, realizing the mistake in an instant. "Oh fuck me running. Sorry lady, apology accepted, two seconds!" he says quickly, ducking as a guy took a flying leap at him for putting his hands on her, and all hell broke loose. More rushed him, jealous drunks looking for blood. "Of all the damn days to leave my weapons at home, curse that vampire to hell for making me do this!" he swears under his breath as his fist connected into the lead mans jaw.
He ducks, leveraging a guy over him into the wall where he slid and collapsed into a heap, planting his boot into the groin of the next man, sure he felt something pop. He dodges wildly, cracking his head on the wall as one swings a table at him, cursing loudly before hurling someones drink at the guy. More rushed in, and he was hard pressed to keep up. Thank god for once in his life for an abusive father. "I really need a new line of work, hunting just isn't cutting it!" he rants to himself, fighting desperately now.
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Post by Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova on Jan 10, 2010 0:25:55 GMT -5
i don't wanna be that call at four o'clock in the morning
'CAUSE I'M THE ONLY ONE YOU KNOW IN THE WORLD THAT WON'T BE HOME. THE SUN IS BLINDING,
I STAYED UP AGAIN. I AM FINDING THAT'S NOT THE WAY I WANT MY STORY TO END. I'M SAFE UP
UP HIGH, NOTHING CAN TOUCH ME. NO PAIN INSIDE ----------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------- YOU'RE MY PROTECTION BUT HOW DO I FEEL THIS GOOD SOBER?
“Oh fuck me running. Sorry lady, apology accepted, two seconds!” the guy announced as he caught me, putting me back on my feet. Fuck me running? Well that was an interesting notion, wasn’t it? The boots I was in weren’t high enough to make me too unbalanced, and I was able to remain composed long enough to notice that something was going on. I heard the familiar voice of one of the guys I had been hanging out with swear, and then there was a fist flying through the air. Oh god dammit now what the hell was going on? I hadn’t even had enough time to get out a witty comment before someone was attacking the poor guy for putting his mitts on me. Damn drunk men.
More men came at us and the first thing I could think to do was dump out the little flimsy basket I’d had my fries in and promptly blinded someone by putting it over his head. He veered off and slammed head-first into a wall as he tried to get it off, and I chuckled to myself before I was grabbed behind by someone. My hand instinctively went to the one on my shoulder as I gripped it firmly, twisted around and then pulled on his arm, flipping him over so that he landed on the ground in a heap, rubbing his back. I promptly kicked him in the head with the flat of my boot and he hit the tile with the side of his head, out like a light. Hands on my hips, I nodded in satisfaction, then ducked as a chair went flying.
“What the fuck!” I shouted. “Was that really necessary?"
Picking up the guy who had run into me and then passed out, I turned toward the crowd and easily tossed him in the middle of it, knocking down several other people. It was good being a big bad hyena!
“Of all the damn days to leave my weapons at home, curse that vampire to hell for making me do this!” I heard the man I had crashed into and unwittingly got into a fight growl to himself. I blinked in surprise and turned toward him. Weapons? Vampire? Was he a hunter? Damn me and my inability to read the minds of anything other than another werecreature.
In my distraction, I forgot that I was in the middle of some sort of melee fight and there was something suddenly slamming into my back, right across my shoulders. I gave a sharp cry and fell forward, the unmistakable smell of my blood filling my nose. Ah now I was pissed. “Nobody makes me bleed my own blood! Nobody!” I snarled under my breath, unable to keep from quoting movies like I normally did. I stayed down and grabbed the first foot I could and pulled them from their feet, then jumped to my own. “I hate bar fights!” I cried angrily, pulling my hand back and popping some guy right in the nose. I heard it crack and he fell down, writhing and clutching at his broken nose.
Where was the guy I’d run into? It was obviously my fault he was in this trouble, and I wasn’t about to let him get the hell beat out of him. I had recognized the first few guys who had attacked him, and that meant that I hadn’t ditched them as well as I thought I had and that they had gotten the wrong idea about me. Also that they were a bunch of assholes and maybe I should stop hanging out with them. But then who would I get to buy my drinks? All of my hard work—okay I’d walked up to them and struck up a conversation, so it wasn’t that hard—winning them over would be a waste!
Grabbing some guy by the arm, I dragged him over to where I’d spotted the guy in black—well, all except that white shirt, so at least he wasn’t a total fashion disaster—and then grabbed him by the arm just as he was about to get hit by some guy—or not, he seemed to be able to take care of himself—and I replaced with him with the guy I’d grabbed earlier, pushing him into the one swinging the punch so that those two would fight instead. Pulling Mr. Black Clothes backward, I hoped to god he wouldn’t hit me in the confusion and then pulled him further into the crowd, to where the fight wasn’t. Everyone else continued to fight, unaware that the two who had caused it were gone. I didn’t care if he wanted to stay in the fight or not, I wanted out of there and the cutie was coming with me.
“Well was that fun or what?” I breathed. The music had kept going and now large bouncers were on their way to stop the fight, but I pulled my companion and myself toward a wall, where there was a gap in the bodies. “I apologize profusely for the way my friends have attempted to treat you! Shall I buy you something to drink to make up for it?” I offered, ignoring the stinging in my back from where the chair—or table, or whatever the fuck—had hit me. My hand came back slick with blood when I touched at it. “Oh god dammit.”
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---------STATE Finished
---------VOCAB 900
---------MUSE Fine
---------CHATTER Hope that's alright!
---------COSTAR Leon
---------WARDROBE Here
---------STAGE Hard Rock
---------CREDIT Coding/banner by yours truly. lyrics by Pink
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Post by Vincent on Jan 10, 2010 2:24:33 GMT -5
He was fighting brilliantly, though it was a losing battle. He was diving, dodging, blocking and deflecting blows on par with an expert martial artist, and sending many away with broken limbs, and he was piling bodies at his feet, before someone slipped a knife in, catching him in the side. He groans, locking onto and shattering their wrist, before his expression changed to one of suprise as he was dragged from the fight.
He was suddenly confronted by the woman who'd inadvertently gotten him into the mess, and as she spoke, he laughed. "No thanks, I don't drink." he said, grimacing as the adrenaline wore off, and he felt the knife still in his side. He focuses entirely on her when she reveals blood on her hand, immediately pulling the knife out of his side and some gauze from a pouch on his belt. "Here, let me. I'm good at this kind of thing." he says, slipping behind her and gently cleaning her wound, before appyling a quick bandage to it. He moves in front of her as he lifts his shirt, revealing a highly toned and tan midsection to inspect his own wound. He sighs, wrapping gauze around his waist after placing a pad over it. Non-lethal, highly irritating though. He drops his shirt and looks at her, shrugging.
"Thanks for pulling me out, I doubt I could have lasted much longer. And thanks for the fight, much more my element." he says, offering her a brilliant smile with heartfelt warmth, his emerald eyes ablaze with enjoyment. He holds out his hand for her, "My name is Leon, Leon Belmont. My second night at a club." he adds with a chuckle. His voice was rich and deep, belying experience and wisdom far beyond his age.
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Post by Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova on Jan 10, 2010 3:06:33 GMT -5
i don't wanna be that call at four o'clock in the morning
'CAUSE I'M THE ONLY ONE YOU KNOW IN THE WORLD THAT WON'T BE HOME. THE SUN IS BLINDING,
I STAYED UP AGAIN. I AM FINDING THAT'S NOT THE WAY I WANT MY STORY TO END. I'M SAFE UP
UP HIGH, NOTHING CAN TOUCH ME. NO PAIN INSIDE ----------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------- YOU'RE MY PROTECTION BUT HOW DO I FEEL THIS GOOD SOBER?
“No thanks, I don't drink,” came his lame reply. What is with all these people who don’t drink. . . . Okay, it was just Anastasia and this guy so far, but that was two people too many!
I stared at my bloody hand curiously, then put a finger to my mouth and licked the blood off, then stuck my tongue out. “I don’t taste very good,” I muttered to myself, looking around and then grabbing some girl’s scarf from around her shoulders to wipe the blood off of my hand. “Here ya go,” I replied smartly, throwing it back at her. She gave me an irate and disbelieving look, but just walked off with a huff. I smiled after her and looked at my clean hand, then looked back up at the man to say something else.
He beat me to the punch, though. “Here, let me. I'm good at this kind of thing,” he offered, giving me not much of a choice as he walked around behind me and tended to my back. The low-riding neckline of my corsetish top obviously wouldn’t give him much trouble as he tended to my wound. I looked over my shoulder and pulled my hair back over my shoulder so it wouldn’t get in the way and frowned. The ends of my brown-auburn hair were damp with blood. Awesome. Everyone loved bloody hair. So very sexy.
“Y’know, you’re bleeding too,” I commented off-handedly. “And do you really just carry gauze with you everywhere you go? Run into a lot of people waiting to shank you?” What a dumb question to ask a hunter. Of course, I probably wasn’t supposed to know he was a hunter, and if he was, well. . . . I wasn’t exactly human and I didn’t really feel like being chased around and attacked by some young, hot thing who looked no older than Anastasia. That was probably why he didn’t drink. So he was okay with murdering people and beating the crap out of others but he could drink illegally? Good god what was the world coming to? At least Anastasia was harmless and so very much a good-two-shoes. Unless this guy just didn’t want to get intoxicated and not be able to fight. . . . Yeah I liked that idea better.
It didn’t take him long to apply a bandage to my back, and then he was back in front of me, pulling up his shirt to take a look at his own wound. I couldn’t help but take a good long look for the entire length of time that it took him to clean the stab wound and then apply bandages and gauze to keep it from bleeding too much. So I was a couple years older. . . he was still legal. . . . I shook my head. No! I had told myself I wasn’t going to have any more one-night stands! Why was I even thinking this guy would do it? God I hate my brain sometimes. Such a whorrish mind. . . .
I blame alcohol.
I busied myself for a minute by stealing someone’s beer and chugging it down. They’d left it on the table. . . it was fair game.
By now the bouncers had started to escort the people in the fight out. Spencer was among one of them, holding his arm as if it were broken. I grimaced at him and he looked between me and the guy with gauze, and I shrugged and waved to him. “S’what you get!” I mouthed to him. He glared at me, and then the bouncer pushed him along. Should have thought about that before he and his buddies decided to attack a random kid.
Turning back to the stabee, and he was finished with his wound, his shirt back down. “Aw,” I muttered. A little loud, I gave him a small nudge with my elbow and smiled wide at him. “Somebody works out, eh?”
“Thanks for pulling me out, I doubt I could have lasted much longer. And thanks for the fight, much more my element,” he thanked me, smiling with such a brilliant smile that I couldn’t help but smile back at him. At least he wasn’t totally pissed for me accidently sicking my male entourage on him. I mean really, were men that irrational that they had to fight anything that looked at the girl they were pining for? It wasn’t even like I was dating any of them! Men. Scratch that, drunk men!
Waving my hand errantly by my head, I just shrugged my shoulder and grinned. “Ah, it’s not a problem. If you wanted I could go insult someone’s mother and get you in another one!” I offered facetiously, trying to keep the air between us casual.
He held his hand out for me and introduced himself, then informed me that this was only his second time at a club! God this kid was turning out to be more and more like Anastasia with every passing moment. I chuckled slightly and shook my head, taking his hand and giving a good shake. “Kyla Martin, at your service. And it has to be a crime to never set foot into a club! Well, I mean, less than at least once a week,” I snickered slightly and picked up the other beer that was sitting at the table. I loved free things. Even though, I could pay for whatever I wanted. These beers probably belonged to some of the people in the fight, anyway. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who follows the rules or whatever, if I may say so. What brings you here, then? If you aren’t a club junkie and don’t drink, anyway.”
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---------STATE Done
---------VOCAB 950
---------MUSE Fine
---------CHATTER My posts are so long. XD Sorry.
---------COSTAR Leon
---------WARDROBE Here
---------STAGE Hard Rock
---------CREDIT coding/banner by yours truly. lyrics by Pink
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Post by Vincent on Jan 10, 2010 3:57:56 GMT -5
He chuckles, "Looking to meet people, I hunt for a living mostly, big game of the cold and unfriendly variety you cold say." he says with a half smile. "A friend told me I should get out and meet people, I'm just not very good at it. I don't drink because it makes it hard to fight, by the way, and it costs more than I care to spend. I have a few now and again though." he says shrugging.
He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "And yes, I meet many people willing to injure me, it's how I got this scar." he says, indicating the one spanning his face, from above his right eye to below his left. "I just like to be prepared mostly. I usually have something on me to defend myself." he shrugs.
"Yeah, I guess I work out a lot, every morning when I wake and night before I go to sleep, and fighting constantly helps. I enjoy combat, nice and exhilerating to test yourself against another person." he says, aware he sounded like a freak, but unable to change himself. He had a war coming up that might well mean his very end, why bother to hide anything?
"So what's brings you then? Just enjoy the club life? Seems a bit much to me." he says, smiling again as he watched the group filter out and a bouncer make his way over. "Oh damn, kicked out unless I feel like taking out another bouncer. Guess I'll go get something to eat, catch you later?" he addresses the last to her, sort of an open invitation for her to come along. He wouldn't mind continuing their chat together, the only issue would be that she'd have to ride behind him on his bike.
"I've got room on my bike if you'd like to...dammit, yeah yeah! Door, I know!" he says, tossing his hands up. Anytime a fight broke out, he was blamed. He slips a card out with his number and offers it to her. "Might just hit another bar if you decide not to come, I'll be out front for a bit." he says before waving the bouncer away and slipping to the door, taking out a pack of smokes.
He moves in front of his sleek bike Vincent Black Lightning, one of only sixteen that were remodeled and any collector would kill to own. It was even fine tuned to be better than bikes on the market today, and it cost a small fortune. Not that he had anything to spend his money on that wasn't practical. He lights up, inhaling deeply, breathing out the cloud of smoke as he leans against his bike, watching the street goers as he filtered out the adrenaline.
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Post by Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova on Jan 10, 2010 4:31:41 GMT -5
i don't wanna be that call at four o'clock in the morning
'CAUSE I'M THE ONLY ONE YOU KNOW IN THE WORLD THAT WON'T BE HOME. THE SUN IS BLINDING,
I STAYED UP AGAIN. I AM FINDING THAT'S NOT THE WAY I WANT MY STORY TO END. I'M SAFE UP
UP HIGH, NOTHING CAN TOUCH ME. NO PAIN INSIDE ----------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------- YOU'RE MY PROTECTION BUT HOW DO I FEEL THIS GOOD SOBER?
“Looking to meet people, I hunt for a living mostly, big game of the cold and unfriendly variety you could say,” he replied, flashing me that smile again that I just had to return. God I was such a fucking flirt.
“Oh, so you hunt polar bears? That’s a mighty dangerous sport, right there! I Wasn’t even aware that was legal,” I retorted smartly, laughing lightly at my own little joke. Of course, I was well aware that he meant vampires, but as far as I was concerned he might hunt us werecreatures as well, and I didn’t want to ruin any chance of making a friend—or helping him make friends, as apparently that was a little talent he didn’t quite have—by letting him know I wasn’t human. As mentioned before, I really didn’t feel like having someone attempt to murder me, either. Well, at least not that night. At least I knew how to shift. . . I’d have a better chance at scampering away if I had to. Or wanted to.
Mentioning his scar, I tilted my head. I hadn’t even noticed it before, even though it was—almost literally—right in front of my nose. I grimaced slightly and nodded my head. “Oh, I know how that goes,” I said, turning my head and running a finger down the large, blade-shaped burn scar on my left cheek. I had to brush some of my hair away, and it was hardly noticeable because it was white, but it stood out slightly against my slightly tanned skin. The scar that fucking wolf Urjasz had given me. Freaking silver.
“Got this thing when I didn’t meet some standards,” I explained, letting the hair fall back over my face and turning my head to look at him straight. At least the ones on my back and side had healed over for the most part. . . otherwise he might have seen those, too. Damn sadist wolf and his torture toys. At least now he was gone.
“So what's brings you then? Just enjoy the club life? Seems a bit much to me,” he asked, his back against a wall.
Shrugging my shoulders, I moved toward the table I’d stolen—er, liberated—the beer from and sat down on top of it, crossing my left leg over my right and gripping the edge of the table with my hands, shoulder hunched slightly. “Oh yeah I go clubbing usually every night. . . . I’m a bit of an alcoholic and I love partying. . . . It gives me a reason to get out of the house and meet people. I will give you that it’s expensive, but money isn’t particularly a problem for me, and I can get into most of the exclusive clubs, so I figure why not?” I said, reaching out and snatching a fry from someone who walked past. I flashed the guy a smile and munched on one end as he walked by, shaking his head.
“Oh damn, kicked out unless I feel like taking out another bouncer. Guess I'll go get something to eat, catch you later?” he announced. I frowned slightly and looked over my shoulder to see one of the bouncers making his way back toward us. I groaned slightly and shook my head. Hadn’t they already cleared out all the trouble makers? Sure he was just doing his job, and I wondered if he was going to kick me out, too. Then I’d be pissed. I turned back to Leon as he mentioned something about a bike, and then the bouncer was upon us, demanding that he leave.
I turned and looked up at the guy, and before I could say anything he had me by the arm and lifted me up off the table, telling me that I couldn’t sit on it. “Hey, hey! I’m a paying customer, Jake! I’ll do what I like!” I retorted, calling the bouncer by his name and showing just how often I really came down here. Jake just rolled his eyes and watched Leon leave after handing me a card. “Now look what you did. Chased out my new friend!”
Jake shrugged his broad shoulders. “You know the drill, Kyla. Am I to assume you have something to do with this? And you have a new 'friend' every night,” he replied smartly, talking about my habit of being easy.
I just grinned at him and shook my head. “Now what makes you think that? Guess I’ll go chase after the poor, friendless guy. You sure know how to make a person unwanted, Jake! And I'm trying to cut back on my amount of 'friends',” I said, patting his chest and then heading for the door, stopping by the bar and handing over a couple hundred dollar bills. “Here’s for all my drinks and some of the damages.” The bartender smiled at me, and then I waved and left, looking around for my new buddy, spotting him easily standing by the bike he had mentioned earlier. I was more of a car girl, myself, but the bike looked nice.
“Didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?” I taunted with a smiled, walking up toward him. Out here it was much quieter, even with the occasional blare of a horn and the people walking up and down the street, on their phones or chatting with their pals. “You know those things will kill you?” I was being sarcastic, of course, and motioned toward the smoke in his hand.
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---------STATE Finished
---------VOCAB 911
---------MUSE Great
---------CHATTER Going to bed.
---------COSTAR Leon
---------WARDROBE Here
---------STAGE Outside the Hard Rock
---------CREDIT coding/banner by yours truly. lyrics by Pink
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Post by Vincent on Jan 10, 2010 12:30:52 GMT -5
He chuckles to himself, "Not quite polar bears, as I'm sure you know, not being normal yourself. I'd guess a lycan of some kind, since you feel warm to the touch. You outdrank everyone here and are fine, bodily threw a man into a crowd, took a blow that should have left you down and out, and managed to switch me for another grown man while dragging me out." he says, shrugging.
"If it's any consolation, I only hunt vampires, I don't worry about lycans, and only fight them when I must. I'm sorry if I'm too forward, just wanted us to be clear on some finer points." he says, dropping and stomping out his smoke. He throws a leg over his bike, starting it up and letting it idle in silence as snow drifted down around them.
"So, more drinking? Or would you like to hit my place to get out of the snow? It's pretty well stocked, the vampire that helps me insists that I try and be normal." he says with a laugh, smiling at her and waiting patiently for her reply.
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Post by Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova on Jan 10, 2010 14:50:05 GMT -5
i don't wanna be that call at four o'clock in the morning
'CAUSE I'M THE ONLY ONE YOU KNOW IN THE WORLD THAT WON'T BE HOME. THE SUN IS BLINDING,
I STAYED UP AGAIN. I AM FINDING THAT'S NOT THE WAY I WANT MY STORY TO END. I'M SAFE UP
UP HIGH, NOTHING CAN TOUCH ME. NO PAIN INSIDE ----------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------- YOU'RE MY PROTECTION BUT HOW DO I FEEL THIS GOOD SOBER?
I walked out of the bar and he chuckled to himself, but I wasn’t quite sure I liked this chuckle. “Not quite polar bears, as I'm sure you know, not being normal yourself. I'd guess a lycan of some kind, since you feel warm to the touch. You out-drank everyone here and are fine, bodily threw a man into a crowd, took a blow that should have left you down and out, and managed to switch me for another grown man while dragging me out,” came his well-thought out conclusion as to what I was.
A blush warmed my cheeks and I laughed slightly—a nervous-ish sound—and ran a hand through my chocolate-brown hair. “Oh. . . so you noticed, eh? Guess I should have expected such a thing from a hunter,” I said, trying to seem more nonchalant than I really was. He didn’t seem like he was he was going to attack me, so I didn’t see any reason that I had to be nervous. “Yeah. . . I would be a hyena, in particular.” It was worth mentioning what I was exactly, wasn’t it?
“If it's any consolation, I only hunt vampires, I don't worry about lycans, and only fight them when I must. I'm sorry if I'm too forward, just wanted us to be clear on some finer points,” he commented, straddling his bike and letting it idle. I studied him for a few seconds while he started it up, the gentle rumble of its idling still sounding like a dull roar in my ears. I was able to ignore it, as I was used to the various loud noises of New York and the fact that my eardrums had been blasted by worse in my years of clubbing and concerts and other things. He seemed to be true to his words. I wasn’t much of a lie detector, though.
Smiling after a few seconds, I just shrugged my shoulders. “Well I’m relatively harmless. Was just turned a little less than a year ago. Not one for random violence. Pre-meditated violence, maybe, or self-defense, but I don’t just lash out.” Did it sound like I was trying to convince him not to murder me? Maybe a little bit. I didn’t really want to be murdered, though, so could you really blame me for trying to have all my bases covered? So I could at least say that I tried when he attempted to murder me.
Snow started to fall around us and I looked up, sighing. Snow. I liked how it looked when it first fell, but in New York, it didn’t take long for it to get all murky and dirtied up from the cars. I probably should have been wearing a jacket, but my core temperature was warmer than usual and the wintry temperatures didn’t bother me too much. I could feel the glances from people who were cold, almost hear them thinking about how crazy I was to be out here wearing next to nothing, but I was perfectly fine.
I was pulled out of my own thoughts when Leon started to speak again. Looking down from the clouds, I went back to looking at him as he spoke. It was only polite, no? “So, more drinking? Or would you like to hit my place to get out of the snow? It's pretty well stocked, the vampire that helps me insists that I try and be normal,” he asked, laughing slightly and smiling.
Smiling back at him, I glanced around then grinned. “Ah, surprise me,” I bated, walking toward his bike and throwing a leg over. I was now glad that I was wearing a short skirt; it was a little easier straddling the bike. The knee-high boots I wore were also preferable over the sandals that I had debated on wearing—just three inches on the heels, but the boots protected more of my legs. Lifting my hands, I pulled my hair back and used a hair tie resting on my wrist to tie it up into a pony-tail. Because, you know, wind-blown hair was just soooo sexy. “I thought you hunted vampires? Not many hunters would accept help from their prey.”
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---------STATE Finished
---------VOCAB 701
---------MUSE Fine
---------CHATTER Gwah. . . up too early.
---------COSTAR Leon
---------WARDROBE Here
---------STAGE Outside the Hard Rock
---------CREDIT coding/banner by yours truly. lyrics by Pink
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Post by Vincent on Jan 10, 2010 16:03:17 GMT -5
He smiles, "he's a special case. He's helped our clan in the past, and he'd earned a place of tolerance and honour among us, and I'm not like my clan hunting down every vampire, just the evil ones. If they mean harm to humans or any species, I hunt them down without mercy." he says with a shrug.
He waits till she's situated, then opens the throttle, blasting down the street, swerving through traffic and around corners. He guided them to the small home he had on the backstreets, pulling to a stop after ten near death minutes. "Hmm, roads are getting slippery." he commented.
The home was a small two story house, and he guides the bike into the attached garage, letting them in after. The home didn't scream hunter or teenage guy, rather a young couple esque feel. He moved to the fire place, lighting it quickly to warm the house before sinking into his couch. "If you want something, help yourself, fridge is stocked with alchohol and soda." he says, pointing to the kitchen and letting her make herself at home.
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Post by Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova on Jan 10, 2010 17:24:45 GMT -5
i don't wanna be that call at four o'clock in the morning
'CAUSE I'M THE ONLY ONE YOU KNOW IN THE WORLD THAT WON'T BE HOME. THE SUN IS BLINDING,
I STAYED UP AGAIN. I AM FINDING THAT'S NOT THE WAY I WANT MY STORY TO END. I'M SAFE UP
UP HIGH, NOTHING CAN TOUCH ME. NO PAIN INSIDE ----------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------- YOU'RE MY PROTECTION BUT HOW DO I FEEL THIS GOOD SOBER?
“He's a special case. He's helped our clan in the past, and he'd earned a place of tolerance and honour among us, and I'm not like my clan hunting down every vampire, just the evil ones. If they mean harm to humans or any species, I hunt them down without mercy,” he explained while I settled onto the bike, slipping my arms around his waist, grabbing my left wrist with my right hand to make sure I wouldn’t go flying off when he took off. Motorcycles weren’t exactly roomy sedans, so I might as well have been getting a piggy-back, I was so close. That just wasn’t a problem for me, though.
Making sure my feet weren’t going to slip and make me lose my balance, I smiled even though he probably couldn’t see it. “Well that’s good to hear. I lived with a mansion full of vampires when I was turned. . . my friend and my sire and I—and the werewolf who gave me the scar—were really the only lycans living in the place. They had a few raven grunts, but they were pretty much just scouts,” I said conversationally, having no problem divulging the life I had had now that there was no danger of getting in trouble for telling anyone. It was nice having someone to talk to about it all other than Anastasia. She was a great girl, but I didn’t like having to beat around the bush all the time around strangers. . . it wasn’t my style.
As soon as I was ready—clutching him around his waist and sitting against him—he pulled away from the curb and shot down the street like a bullet, weaving between cars and fishtailing on the patches of ice we ran into on occasion. I laughed as we slid around the corner, and happily flipped off a car that blared it’s horn at us. I hadn’t ever realized how maneuverable a motorcycle was compared to the cars I drove, but this was a freaking blast! The ride didn’t last long enough in my mind.
Feeling a little giddy as we arrived at his home, I laughed quietly to myself and crawled off the bike, my legs a little shaky, but I got over it soon enough. “I have got to get me one of these!” I exclaimed, looking wistfully back at the bike as I followed my new companion into his little abode. To say that it wasn’t what I had expected was a bit of an understatement. The place looked like it belonged on the cover of Home and Garden, not belonging to a twenty-or-so-year-old. I’d expected some sort of bachelor pad, but that was fine. So long as there was alcohol there to be drank and something do, he could live a shack and I wouldn’t have cared.
The fire flickered to life in the little fireplace and I glanced around, a small smile ever present on my face. “Well isn’t this just cozy?” I commented, my hands on my hips as he plopped himself down on the couch. It sure did look like a comfy little couch.
“If you want something, help yourself, fridge is stocked with alcohol and soda,” Leon announced, indicating toward the kitchen after he situated himself on the sofa. Not much for being a hospitable host, was he?
Smiling at him, I shrugged my shoulders and rubbed my hands together. That fight in the bar had sobered whatever part of me that had been buzzed up and I needed something more in my system. “Don’t mind if I do!” I gleefully exclaimed, trekking toward the kitchen and flinging open the door. With one hand on my hip and the other fidgeting with the door—swinging it back and forth—I scanned the contents of the little refrigerator, then grabbed at a promising bottle of Mike’s Hard.
As I walked back into the living room, I popped off the cap and took a long pull from the bottle, letting out a content breath of air and plopping myself down on the couch next to Leon on the couch, putting my feet on the coffee table. Sure I’d remove them if he asked, but until then I was getting comfortable. “So how do I know you didn’t just bring me here to kill me in your back yard? You keep trophies of your kills, or do you just kill ‘em and leave? The werewolf I knew kept trophies. Morbid little room of heads he had at his place. Violent little Pollock.”
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---------STATE Finished
---------VOCAB 759
---------MUSE Fine
---------CHATTER
---------COSTAR Leon
---------WARDROBE Here
---------STAGE Leon's place
---------CREDIT coding/banner by yours truly. lyrics by Pink
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Post by Vincent on Jan 10, 2010 19:04:44 GMT -5
He laughs mirthlessly, "I take no trophies in a physical sense. I see no reason to desecrate a corpse, not even that of my enemy. My trophies are my life and the experience I gain. And it's your decision if you want to believe I brought you here to kill you, I steadfastly refuse to change my statement however. I only hunt vampires." he says, shrugging.
He rises from the couch, retrieving a soda before sinking back down, allowing himself to relax a bit. "So, how, or rather, why were you turned? A random attack? Or pre-determined? It seems an incredibly painful process to go through willingly. But, then again, it does seem like it would have it's benefits." he muses the last aloud, his ways of thinking one of the reasons he left the clan. He believed they needed to adapt, in order to survive.
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Post by Anastasia Kirilovna Marisova on Jan 10, 2010 20:23:35 GMT -5
i don't wanna be that call at four o'clock in the morning
'CAUSE I'M THE ONLY ONE YOU KNOW IN THE WORLD THAT WON'T BE HOME. THE SUN IS BLINDING,
I STAYED UP AGAIN. I AM FINDING THAT'S NOT THE WAY I WANT MY STORY TO END. I'M SAFE UP
UP HIGH, NOTHING CAN TOUCH ME. NO PAIN INSIDE ----------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------- YOU'RE MY PROTECTION BUT HOW DO I FEEL THIS GOOD SOBER?
"I take no trophies in a physical sense. I see no reason to desecrate a corpse, not even that of my enemy. My trophies are my life and the experience I gain. And it's your decision if you want to believe I brought you here to kill you, I steadfastly refuse to change my statement however. I only hunt vampires." Was it just me or did he sound a little irritated at me?
I waved my hand by my head and shook my head, swallowing the mouthful of Smirnoff before I could speak. That would be attractive. "Alright, alright. I believe you. Don't pop a blood vessel," I replied distastefully. I was merely teasing him, even though I wasn't sure what his sense of humor was. Most of the time I just did whatever I wanted and said what I wanted, and I wasn't about to change for this guy. I hadn't changed for my prick of a sire or Anastasia, so it was safe to say that I was probably never going to.
Leon got up then and ventured into the kitchen, and I took another few pulls from the bottle in my hand. I was going through the thing like it was a soda—of course, I normally did, anyway. I was a hard-core alcoholic and this probably was only the first of many I was going to drink that night. Sure, it wasn't healthy for me, but who cares. It was my body and I'd do whatever the hell I wanted to it.
As he sat back down, I readjusted in my seat a little bit, pulling the bottom of my shirt down and doing the same to the hem of my jean skirt. His next question was unexpected—kinda—but I answered it in stride.
"Well, it was premeditated by my sire. . . . I was an apology gift for my friend Anastasia. She saw some things that she shouldn't have seen and her now-deceased sire had to turn her to silence her. As opposed to just killing her," I started, pausing to take a drink of my spirits. "He did some things to her, and after this whole ordeal between them, Anastasia lost a good friend and I was his replacement.
"We had been friends when she was human, and Daktari—that's our sire—was wondering if there were any human friends Anastasia had that wouldn't mind being introduced to this life. Well, as you can tell, that was me." I paused again in my little story to take a drink. Alcohol tended to make me a bit of a Chatty Cathy. "So Daktari tracked me down and asked if I'd like to join him. I jumped at the chance to have a bit of excitement in my life."
I stared at the coffee table in front of me, my head tilted to the side a little bit as I absently swirled what was left in the cold, glass bottle, rotating my wrist. I took a drink, longer than the rest—it was a nice way to drown the depressing feelings rising in me.
"Daktari wasn't a good man. By any standards. He was violent and abusive, and I ran away with a young werewolf in order to get out of there. Daktari took his anger at me out on Anastasia. He terrorized her and beat her until Zakhar—the vampire who owned the mansion we lived in—wouldn't allow it anymore and they killed him. He died in process, and it was Anastasia who delivered the final blow to Daktari. . . . Now we live in the mansion, Anastasia having inherited it from Zakhar."
The story ended and I stared solemnly at the table, regretting having left Anastasia there all alone, just so I could fuck some werewolf who I didn't even really love. I drained the rest of the bottle and set it on the table, rubbing my forehead slightly. Blinking slightly, I turned Leon and smiled ruefully. "Oh! I'm sorry. . . you didn't really ask. . . for my life story, did you?"
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---------STATE Finished
---------VOCAB 668
---------MUSE Fine
---------CHATTER One of my shorter posts haha.
---------COSTAR Leon
---------WARDROBE Here
---------STAGE Leon's place
---------CREDIT coding/banner by yours truly. lyrics by Pink
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